


Unconventional Allies

by shanachie



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men
Genre: Spoilers: Age of Ultron, Tony. TONY. Clint. Erik. Yeah pretty much. All of them.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4167585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanachie/pseuds/shanachie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda and Pietro call in a little extra help for the big battle at the end of Ultron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unconventional Allies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GingerBee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerBee/gifts).



> I promised Ginger a story a while ago and I failed spectacularly. And then she had some… well she’s laid up for a bit. So here’s a story for her. And hopefully I’ll have another, but no promises! And I totally do not speak any form of Slovak… there are days when I struggle with English… so Bing/Google is my friend… sorry if I massacred it.  
>  **Disclaimer:** No one recognizable belongs to me. Not making any money off this.  
>  **Second Disclaimer:** Despite being fanfiction, this is MY work and I do not give anyone or any other site permission to republish this story under my name or any other without my authorization.  
> 

Wanda settled down next to her brother as the team finished gearing up. “Are you calling Dad or am I?” she asked, as he finished tightening the laces on his new sneakers.

Pietro stared at her for a moment. “You think it’s a good idea?”

“No. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but _metal_ men, Pietro. I think Dad might be helpful.”

Motioning to where Tony was tinkering with his own metal suit, her brother commented, “And you don’t think that might be a slight problem?”

“I think Dad has enough control to not mess with someone on his own side,” she answered, standing back up. “If you won’t call him, I will.”

“I’m glad you think his temper is controlled enough to remember who’s side he’s on!” Pietro yelled after her. He looked up when he realized someone was standing over him. “What?”

“Problem?” Captain America, no he’d told them to call him Steve, asked.

“My sister forgets she’s younger,” Pietro replied. “And is trying to…” he attempted to figure out how to explain what Wanda wanted. Finally he sighed. “She wants me to call our dad.”

Steve waited as if expecting more of an explanation, but when Pietro didn’t say anything else, he said, “If you want to talk to your father before we go, there’s no reason not to call him.”

Pietro snorted. “That’s not why…” When Steve just continued to stare at him, the younger man said, “Our dad’s Erik Magnus Lensherr.” At Steve’s blank look, he elaborated, “He’s Magneto?” When Steve continued to look at him blankly, he asked, “Have you been under a rock?”

“No, he was in a chunk of ice for seventy-five years,” Clint said, joining the conversation. “Did you just say your dad is _Magneto_?”

“Is that a problem?” Wanda rested her hand on Pietro’s shoulder, glaring at Steve and Clint.

“I’m just trying to figure out how,” Clint replied.

“Well when a man and a woman love each other very much, Hawk-brain,” Tony started as he joined them.

Clint glared at him. “I know _that_. I _do_ have three kids of my own. I meant…” He waved his hand at the twins, who were waiting blank-faced for his response. “You’re not… German?” he attempted.

“Neither is our mother,” Pietro pointed out.

“I got nothing then,” Clint said, spreading his hands.

“Why is it such a problem that their father is Magneto?” Steve asked, drawing the issue back to the original question.

“Well, leaving aside their dad being the evil head of evil mutants,” Tony commented. “His power is manipulating _metal_. Not really something we want around the Iron Man suit. Or Vision for that matter. Who knows what he’d do to Vision.”

“Dad’s not…” Pietro started.

“Dad manipulates metal, but he’s got his own…” Wanda tried.

The twins looked at each other. “Uncle Charles?” Pietro suggested.

“That could work,” Wanda agreed. She turned to Tony. “Would you feel more comfortable if we called Charles Xavier?”

“Who is this Charles Xavier?” Steve asked. “Is he someone you know?” He looked at Tony and Clint.

“Well he’s better than them calling dear old dad,” Tony agreed. “Sure. Call Xavier.” He glanced at Steve. “If it’s okay with you, Spangles.”

Steve looked at the people surrounding him before nodding once. “Call this Xavier, but we’re wheels up in five minutes.” He turned, leaving the twins bickering in low voices.

“Is no one going to address that _they_ are apparently the spawn of Magneto? And call the head of the X-Men ‘uncle’?” Tony asked as Clint practically dragged him away from the still bickering twins.

 

 

 

The twins settled side by side on the bench in the jet, staring straight ahead as the rest of the team took their seats. “What did your ‘uncle’ say?” Steve asked as he sat down across from them.

“Uncle Charles will get in touch with Dad if he can,” Wanda answered. “But he’s not sure what Dad will do.”

“No one’s ever sure what Dad will do,” Pietro commented.

"So we shouldn't count on them for assistance?" Steve questioned.

"While calling the X-Men probably isn't as bad as calling the Bombastic Four," Tony put in, "there's no guarantee that they're going to show up or be helpful."

Steve looked at the twins who shrugged in unison. "Not like we have any idea," Pietro answered.

"We obviously weren't important enough to worry about," Wanda added.

"Or they simply had no idea you were there," Bruce said quietly.

That silenced the twins for the moment and they settled in for the trip.

 

 

Pietro hadn't realized the change in the battle at first. He'd tried to keep track of Wanda, but even his speed wasn't enough to be everywhere at once. He'd enjoyed bantering with the archer, Clint was definitely someone he could consider becoming friends with so he hadn't even thought twice about following him off the ship.

 _What are you doing, Brat_? Wanda's voice echoed in his head.

He's never told her that when she spoke like that to him it sounded like so many bees buzzing in his head. _Helping,_ he told her as he zoomed after the archer.

_Pietro!_

He ignored her yell, speeding towards where Clint was gathering the child into his arms. It figured the older man would go after a little boy; he'd made a couple of comments about his children on the flight out.

Pietro was reaching to help lift the child out of the hole when he felt the first impact hit his shoulder. Clint's eyes widened as he tried to grab the younger man, his hands already occupied with the little boy they'd been helping. He was sure he was about to watch the speedster stuck down before him when suddenly the bullets halted in midair.

The projectiles crashed to the ground, followed a moment later by the teenager and Clint vaulted out of the depression he'd been crouched in, kneeling down next to Pietro. "Didn't see that coming, did ya?" the teen gasped. "Ow!" he added as Clint applied pressure to his shoulder.

"Yeah, hurts like a bitch," Clint agreed. "What the hell just happened?"

Pietro rolled his head around and indicated the maroon clad man that was calmly floating down to their level. "Hi, Dad."

"Pietro," the man replied gravely. "Where is your sister?"

"Little Witchy is about to blow her top, people," Tony's voice came over the comms. "She's a bit pissed her brother got hurt."

Clint looked torn for a moment as he clearly tried to figure out whether to pick the boy up or help Pietro. Erik solved his problem by reaching down and easily lifting his son, using his power to take most of the teen's weight as he applied pressure where Clint had been. He ignored Pietro's gasping and cursing as he strode towards the air boat.

"What's going on?" Steve demanded.

"So we might have a little help?" Clint hazarded, looking at Erik who was watching the SHIELD medics get to work on Pietro. "Magneto just saved Quicksilver."

Erik's eyes narrowed at Clint's words, but the archer wasn't sure which name caused the reaction. He waved in response as he waited for the fallout from his flippant answer.

"Oh goodie," Tony said. "Wait. What?"

Clint rolled his eyes. “Which part of that was confusing to you, Tin Can?”

Erik rested his hand on Pietro’s shoulder for a minute, speaking softly to him in a language Clint didn’t immediately recognize. By the time he pieced together that it was Slovak, it was too late for him to translate anything. Still he got the gist when the man floated back towards the flying rock, laying waste to the mechanical menaces in his path.

“Heads up, guys,” Clint radioed as they pulled away from the bridge they’d been docked at. “You’ve got incoming. And he’s pretty pissed off.”

“What?” Tony’s question was followed by a squawk and the sound of metal crashing.

A few moments later, Erik landed lightly on the deck just a few feet from where Clint was crouched next to Pietro. Automatically Clint’s hand went to the gun strapped to his thigh, but a flick from Erik’s fingers sent it spinning off into the atmosphere. Clint frowned. “Hey, I actually liked that gun.”

“Otec.” Pietro struggled into a sitting position, still managing to keep pressure on his wound. “Stop. He didn’t hurt me.” He groaned as he shifted in the wrong direction. “Wanda is still on the…” He passed out before he could complete his sentence.

Erik ripped his helmet off. “Charles? Where’s my daughter?!” he roared.

Clint jumped as a voice echoed in his head. _She’s still in the church, Erik. I suggest you get there since it appears she is in the process of creating an explosion._

“Keep him safe,” Erik ordered. When he pushed off this time, the entire ship rocked from the force of his ascent. Clint edged closer to Pietro, trying to ignore the stares of the people around them.

A bald man in a wheelchair was waiting at the docking point when Clint and Pietro were off-loaded. He rolled forward, placing a hand on Pietro’s uninjured shoulder and Clint’s hand went to his empty holster. “Peace, Avenger,” the man spoke in a soothing voice. “I don’t mean him any harm.” His attention turned to Pietro as the younger man began to stir. “Erik has Wanda. She’s safe.”

“Otec má sestru?” Pietro asked almost drunkenly.

A clank sounded from the docking port and Clint turned towards the noise in time to see Wanda break away from Erik. The girl dodged around the other people, making a beeline for the gurney that Pietro was laying on. Clint caught her before she could barrel into her brother. “He’s going to be fine,” he assured the girl as she tried to peer around the archer.

Erik paused next to the wheelchair, resting his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I got to her just in time.”

Charles looked up at him. “There was never a doubt. Your son will also be fine.”

Another clank drew everyone’s attention and the group spun around to see the red and gold of Iron Man striding towards them. “So… I’m thinking this isn’t going to end well,” Clint commented.

“What did you think you were doing, Magnet Brain?” Tony demanded as soon as his face plate slid upwards.

A hand went up and Iron Man skidded backwards, stopping just shy of the edge of the deck. Erik, although Clint could see the change in demeanor now and his brain categorized him as a new threat level, advanced on the metal clad man. “You. Endangered. My. Children,” the older man growled out.

“Erik,” Charles started, but a glare made him subside.

Tony attempted to flail an arm, but was stopped as Erik clearly held him immobile. “Hey!” the billionaire protested. “They are _clearly_ old enough to make their own decisions and apparently cause enough mayhem to count as…”

Erik got close enough that if Tony could move Clint would seriously fear for the helicarrier. “Don’t _ever_ take my children into danger again,” he said in a low voice.

“Otec,” Wanda’s voice dragged his attention away from Tony and a flick of Erik’s fingers sent the red and gold clad man sailing out the bay door. Clint smirked when he heard the repulsors fire a moment later, but Tony didn’t reappear.

A few quick strides brought Erik to his children’s sides. Wanda was clutching Pietro’s hand, her free hand now holding the bandage on his injured shoulder. A hand cupped the girl’s cheek for a minute before Erik turned his attention to his son. “You will listen,” he started.

Pietro rolled his eyes. “Because that works out _so_ well for me,” he returned dryly.

“Brat,” Wanda scolded.

“Is anyone else finding it amusing that the Slovak for brother is Brat?” Clint asked, drawing everyone’s attention off the reunited family. When his comment just drew blank stares, he added, “Okay so it’s just me then.”

“Erik,” Charles tried again.

“Charles,” Erik drawled in response, his accent clearer now.

“They’re fine,” Charles pointed out.

Erik pointed at where Pietro was laying at the gurney, Wanda still clutching his hand. “Does he look fine, Charles?”

“He’ll _be_ fine,” Charles corrected. He indicated the medics who were swarming them now that the bay doors were closed. Wanda hadn’t given up her grip on Pietro’s hand, but was allowing one of them to take a look at his wound. “Just. Don’t.”

Erik’s hand slowly lowered as he took a good look around. “Keep that metal head away from me,” he finally said.

“Not a problem, Lensherr,” Clint agreed. He motioned to where they were moving Pietro out of the bay. “Why don’t you go with your children?”

Charles had apparently directed Wanda to move him and the two of them were following the gurney. With one last look at him, Erik followed them. Clint breathed a sigh of relief as they all disappeared from view. Looking around, he fished a phone out of his vest. Finding a quiet corner, he dialed. “Hey,” he said when Laura answered. “How are you? How’re the kids?” He smiled as she began to tell him about what Cooper and Natalie had done earlier. Settling into a corner, he allowed her voice to send him into a light doze. He’d worry about the rest later.

 

 

_Brat—Brother_  
_Otec—father_  
_Otec má sestru —Father has sister?_  



End file.
